Rise of Blackfyre
by SenZ
Summary: King Aegon the Unworthy has died, but not before legitimizing all his ambitious bastards. As Prince Daeron prepares himself for the Iron Throne, forces are already at work challenging his rule. Events leading up to the Blackfyre Rebellion.
1. Chapter 1  Cregan

This is my version of the events that led up to the Blackfyre Rebellion. It is going to differ from the ASOIAF Wiki entry on the subject so bear with me. Since there is a span of ten years between the death of Aegon IV and the actual rebellion, this story is going to focus much more on how it happened rather than the actual rebellion. A lot of the events are going to be made up since so few sources talk about this period. Please review, I read and appreciate all of them. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Cregan<strong>

The bells of the Red Keep tolled the hour of noon. Inside the castle of Aegon the Conquer, all was quiet. Soldiers solemnly stood guard throughout the halls and servants scurried silently back and forth. The entire court had converged outside Maegor's Holdfast and whispered only one subject: the king was dying.

Deep inside Maegor's Holdfast, in the Royal Apartment, King Aegon IV lay dying in his bed. The king, who was called the Unworthy, has ruled the Seven Kingdoms for 12 years. During that time the court has seen no shortages of scandals as the king took one mistress after another. Aside from his two legitimate children, Aegon also fathered four bastard children. Now, on his deathbed, the four bastards knelt besides him.

"You-you are all my-my children," the king said weakly, turning his head so he can see them. "Mem-members of House Targaryen."

Cregan Stark, the Hand of the King, who had been standing in the far corner of the room, coughed to himself. But that didn't interrupt Aegon. "Daemon," he wheezed. "You-you're a great warrior, a warrior w-w-worthy of Aegon the Conqueror himself. I present to you Blackfyre, the sw-sword of kings."

Cregan studied Daemon carefully. He exhibited the hallmark features of House Targaryen; the silver-gold hair, deep purple eyes, fine features of almost inhumane beauty. He wore his hair long, with broad shoulders, big arms, and a clean shave. He looked like a typical warrior, as opposed to his father, who was fat and unkempt.

The king waved his arms around weakly, indicating to Cregan that he wanted Blackfyre brought out. Cregan bowed as he walked to the other side of the room, where a large wooden chest was kept against the wall. He took a silver key out of his pocket and slipped it into the lock. There was a crack as the lock sprang open and he lifted up the lid of the chest. A plume dust flew into the air, causing Cregan's nose to tingle. Carefully, he took out a large sword wrapped tightly in red clothe and brought it over to the king.

"Him. Give it to him," Aegon said, pointing to Daemon. Cregan walked up to the young man and presented him with the sword. Daemon stood up and bowed as he received it. He said nothing but Cregan could see tears forming in the corner of his eyes.

One by one Aegon legitimized his bastards. Whether this was for better or for worse Cregan did not know but all four of them seemed ambitious. There was Daemon, the model Targaryen male and a great warrior. Matching him in size and strength was his half brother Aegor Rivers. He was only half-Targaryen, so his hair was black. Then there was Aegon's daughter Shiera Seastar, whose beauty was said to be unmatched in the Seven Kingdoms. It was said that countless knights had perished trying to win her favor, a rumor that reminded Cregan of the trouble Aegon went through to bring the girl's mother here.

Those three alone could probably raise an army of followers to unseat Prince Daeron but it was the fourth bastard that Cregan feared most. He was Brynden Rivers, more commonly known as "Blackraven", an albino with milk white skin and deep red eyes. He has none of the handsomeness of Daemon nor does he have the warrior appeal of Aegor Rivers but what he lacks he makes up for with a sinister reputation of being a spymaster and a sorcerer. For his services to the realm, Aegon had awarded him "Dark Sister", the sword of Visenya Targaryen.

"Serve the realm well," Aegon said hoarsely. He tried to muster his strength and say something else but all that came out was a series of coughs. Then his small eyes grew large as he began gasping for breath. His body became rigid and he croaked a word that sounded like "regret". Finally his body relaxed and his eyes closed and Aegon IV was no more.

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><p>Cregan opened the door of the Royal Apartment and walked outside, followed by the four bastards of Aegon. When the court saw the solemn looks on their faces, they assumed the worst. Prince Daeron, who stood in the front, bowed his head. "Long live the King," someone said. Soon the chant filled the air as lords and nobles bowed before Daeron.<p>

"Rise," he said in a commanding tone. There was a certain pleasure in the tone of his voice. "You may go."

The four bastards left without saying a word and Cregan watched them darkly. Daemon seemed especially displeased by the fact that Daeron was now king and his pledge of fealty sounded forced. Daemon had also been proud of his lineage and his prowess and now that he was given Blackfyre, it seemed to expand his arrogance further. Cregan sighed as he began to make his way out. Now that Aegon was gone, he felt himself no longer worthy of being Hand of the King. No doubt Daeron would want to make his own appointment and so it was only fitting that he hand in his pin and return north.

"Lord Stark a word please," the new king said from behind.

Cregan turned around and bowed as Daeron walked up to him. "Your grace."

"I want to know what happened in that room," Daeron said in a low, serious voice.

"I don't understand?" Cregan replied.

"You know what I mean Lord Stark," Daeron said. "What did my father say to those four?"

"The late king legitimized their status and recognized them as his own children," Cregan said. "He gave them the right to create their own Houses but did not award them any land. It's all in the King Aegon's will; if you like I can call a servant to bring it forward."

"No, no that won't be necessary," Daeron said, waving it off. He seemed distracted by some troubling thoughts. Was it the fact that Daemon and the others were legitimized? Cregan could only guess.

"There is one more thing," Cregan said. "The late king gave Daemon Blackfyre, the sword of Aegon the Conqueror."

"He what?" Daeron was as much shocked as he was troubled. "Not good, not good at all."

Cregan knew Daeron shared the same fears as him, fears of a possible uprising led by Daemon. Armed with Blackfyre, the so called Sword of Kings, Daemon can easily muster support for a bid on the Iron Throne. However Cregan considered himself an honorable man and did not like to scheme. And so while he sympathized with Daeron, he found himself unable to help him. "If your grace would permit I would like to resign from my post as Hand of the King and return to Winterfell," he said quickly, taking advantage of the moment.

"What? Oh yes, of course," Daeron replied. "Just hand your pin to the Council and be on your way Lord Stark." The fact that Daeron didn't ask Cregan to stay for his coronation meant he was still troubled by the Daemon issue.

Cregan bowed and left the chamber, making his way towards the Tower of the Hand. He still needed to pack his belongings and make one final stop at the Council chamber to take care of some unfinished business. Then it would be a long march up north to Winterfell, to his home. A home he hasn't seen for nearly two years. The thought of Daemon walking out of the room with Blackfyre was still on his mind. Maybe winter is coming…


	2. Chapter 2 Daemon

So this story is going to be all POV based. It is going to take the point of view of four characters: Cregan Stark, Daemon Blackfyre, Brynden "Bloodraven" Rivers, and Shiera Seastar. I find it really weird that almost no major female characters appeared during this period so I guess having Shiera in there seducing guys to further her gains would be cool. Don't worry everything is going to wrap up nicely for the actual rebellion. Enjoy this chapter!

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><p><strong>Daemon<strong>

Daemon walked out of the Red Keep silently, playing over the day's events in his head. His father has given him the right to create a House of his own yet gave him no land. He had Blackfyre, but had no right to the Iron Throne. All this was strange and Daemon can't help but wonder what his father's intention was. Was he trying to change the line of succession? If that was the case could those sounds he made before he died be an edict to name a new successor? "No, the king now is Daeron," he told himself. If Aegon really wanted him to have the throne, why did he wait this long to give him Blackfyre?

Everyone who passed Daemon along the way stopped and looked. After he had passed them they immediately broke down into whispers, no doubt talking about him. But Daemon paid them no mind, he didn't need to. He was now officially a Targaryen prince and if they had an issue they can take it up with Blackfyre. No doubt the tale of him defeating all those other squires during the tournament so many years ago are still fresh in their minds. But even outside the Red Keep, eyes never strayed far from him. It seems his reputation has even spread to the commoners.

"What are you all looking at?" his half-brother Aegor Rivers shouted to a group gossiping maids outside a tavern. "Get back to work!"

Although Daemon and his three half-siblings were all born to different mothers, he had always been close with Aegor. While Brynden Rivers and Shiera shunned everyone, Daemon and Aegor would always play together and pretend to duel. They had been through a lot together these past few years and Aegor would probably be the only person Daemon could call a friend, a _real_ brother.

"So," Aegor said as he jogged up to him. "What now?"

"Now? Now I'm going to find myself a nice tavern and have a bit of a drink," Daemon smiled as he unwrapped Blackfyre and threw away the red clothe. The sword has been kept locked up in that wooden chest for too long. Now it was time to let it breathe and give it new life.

"Have you ever thought of a name for your House?" Aegor asked. "I think I'll keep Targaryen, but I'll make a few changes to my sigil. What about you?"

"Hmm I don't know," Daemon said dreamingly as they walked. "I think Blackfyre would do nicely."

"Daemon Blackfyre; I like that."

The two of them wandered around King's Landing for some time, talking about their plans for the future. With nowhere to settle down, both Daemon and Aegor agreed to travel around the Seven Kingdoms and enjoy themselves; after all both had amassed a personal fortune over the years and did not have to worry about money.

They found a nice tavern in the center of the city and settled into a table by the window to enjoy their wine with a nice view. "You know Daeron doesn't deserve the Iron Throne," Aegor said in a low whisper. "He's nothing like Aegon the Conqueror, unlike you."

"Quiet," Daemon replied, looking around to see if they had been overheard. "What you're saying is treason."

"Hey you're the king's bastard aren't you?" someone said, walking up to Daemon and Aegor's table with a horn of ale in his hands. "How are you doing bastard?"

"Fuck off you drunk, before I throw you out for being rude," Aegor threatened.

"Ah did you guys hear that? This bastard is trying to threaten _me_!"

"That's it." Aegor had lost his patience. He stood up and grabbed the man by the collars. "Who the fuck do you think you are huh?" he said menacingly. "You call me a bastard again and I'll rip your tongue out."

The man seemed to have awakened from his drunken stupor. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry."

Aegor spat in the man's face and threw him away, knocking over a table and all the table's contents. People started gathering around to see what the commotion was about "Piss off, all of you," Aegor said.

"Hey who is going to pay for that?" the owner said angrily as he hurried over from his counter to assess the damage.

"I will," a strong voice said from the back. Daemon and Aegor turned their heads and saw a richly dressed man walking out of a private room flanked by two bodyguards. He took out a gold dragon from his pocket and tossed it to the owner. The man then walked over to Daemon. "It's not safe to talk in the open my lord. Why don't you come with me?"

"Who are you, if you don't mind me asking?" Daemon asked as he followed the mysterious man inside the room. The man was tall and broad, sporting short blonde hair and a mustache. From his demeanor he seemed like a fairly important knight or lord.

"I am Ralph Mooton, lord of Maidenpool," he replied as he beckoned them to take a seat. "And you two must be Daemon and Aegor. I have heard so much about you."

"Thank you for that," Daemon said, implying the situation with the drunk man. "How can we be of service to you?"

"Is it true that King Aegon bestowed upon you Blackfyre, the Sword of Kings?"

Daemon smiled as he unsheathed his blade and presented it to Ralph, who eyed the sword was if it was his firstborn child. Even thought it hasn't seen any light since Daeron I, the sword still shined brightly.

"Gods be good!" he exclaimed happily. "It seems the Seven Kingdoms might actually be saved!"

"What do you mean?" Daemon asked.

"The reign of Aegon IV was not a pleasant one," Ralph explained. "There was corruption everywhere and the king did as he pleased, paying no attention to the affairs of state. What we need the most now is a strong king who can reunite the Seven Kingdoms under centralized rule like Aegon the Conquer, not a scholar who doesn't know anything about warfare."

Daemon looked at Aegor, who had a look of smug satisfaction on his face. It was almost like an I told you so. "Treason, that is treason," Daemon said. While it's true he shared Ralph and Aegor's belief that Daeron wasn't fit for the Iron Throne, he didn't like the prospects of dying in a fight he can't win.

"On the contrary, it is for the good of the realm," Ralph replied. "Why do you think King Aegon never gave you any land? Because the Seven Kingdoms is yours! He gave you Blackfyre because he wanted you to challenge Daeron for the Iron Throne. To the victor go the spoils. How do you think Aegon II took the throne? Or Maegor the Cruel?"

"Maegor had an army and Aegon II had the support of Ser Criston Cole. If I were to do as you describe and claim the Iron Throne as my own, who would support me? No one!"

"Actually brother," Aegor interrupted. "There _are_ people who would support you. I have been in contact with them these past few months. If we are to make a move, then my contacts across the Narrow Sea will raise an army of mercenaries and besiege King's Landing."

"Yes and there are many here in the Seven Kingdoms who would rather see you take the throne," Ralph added.

Daemon smiled. So he had support after all. If what Aegor and Ralph said was really true then he might actually have a chance at becoming king. It was a risk worth taking. "Fine," he finally said. "Where should I start?"

"Does Your Grace have a place to stay?" Ralph asked, smiling to himself.

"Since we were left no land, the answer is no," Daemon replied.

"Then come with me to Maidenpool Your Grace," Ralph said. "There we will be far away from the eyes of Daeron and we can plan your ascension in peace."

"Good," Daemon nodded. "When do we leave?"


	3. Chapter 3 Cregan

Just a short chapter to get things going. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Cregan<strong>

The Tower of the Hand was bustling with activity. While the rest of the Red Keep was in mourning, Cregan's men worked to prepare for his journey back to Winterfell. Clothes and other household items were packed into chests and placed upon carts for transport to the docks. There they will board a ship to White Harbor and be transported to Winterfell. Cregan and his guards would take the land route along the Kingsroad and follow the supply train into Winterfell.

Yet even when his household had finished packing Cregan still found himself facing the mess he had called home these past two years. Papers were scattered everywhere and books stacked on top of each other. He had been so busy with the marriage between Princess Daenerys Targaryen and Prince Maron Martell that he had forgotten to clean up. Normally there were servants that do this but Cregan had sent them away. Now he had to figure out what to pack and what not to.

As Cregan filed through his papers, he heard a knock on his door. Thinking it was probably a servant or the head of his guard, he beckoned the person to enter. Instead he found Brynden Rivers standing at the door.

"Lord Brynden, what an unexpected pleasure," Cregan said, surprised to see Bloodraven here. He was wearing his usual black cloak and hood but his red eyes gave him away.

"Leaving already Lord Stark?" Brynden, or Bloodraven, smiled as he looked around the room. "Surely you're staying for the King's coronation."

"That's an honor I can do without. I have the King's express permission to leave," Cregan replied, getting back to his work. He lifted up a huge stack of parchments and placed them inside a wooden chest. "I'm actually surprised to see you're still lingering around. Daemon and Bittersteel seems to have left in a hurry."

"Oh Lord Stark, when will you ever learn that I am not those two?" Brynden laughed. "Jest aside I do need your help on something."

"Indeed? Has the sun risen from the west? What could I possibly know that the spymaster Bloodraven does not?"

Brynden did not laugh this time. His gaze suddenly turned more serious. "Have you heard that Daemon has chosen to take up the name Blackfyre? I have just only heard this."

"Aegon gave him the right to choose whatever name he wishes," Cregan replied. "Why should we care?"

"The King is worried Lord Stark," Brynden said. "You know this just as well as I do. Unarmed Daemon Blackfyre isn't a threat but with the Sword of Kings who knows what he is capable of?"

So Daeron had told Blackraven about his thoughts on Daemon. But what else did he tell Blackraven? He must be here on the King's orders. "And how does this concern me?"

"Don't play stupid Lord Stark. You served as Hand for two years and you know all the reports about unsatifised lords and angry knights. You and I both know they will flock to the most charismatic person they can meet. In terms of strength and charisma Daemon outshines the King in both."

Cregan sighed. "Lord Brynden I would let you know that I am an honorable man. I will not engage in a petty scheme to bring down a man who is so far innocent of any crimes you may suspect him of committing."

Bloodraven smiled. "Of course not Lord Stark, that was never my intention. I am only trying to uncover the truth."

"What truth?"

"Surely you know the rumor of King Daeron's birth?"

"Of course I do. There are those who say that the King's father was really Aemon the Dragonknight. Those are only rumors. Any sane man would not believe it."

Brynden laughed a cruel laugh. "You are naïve my Lord Stark. As if the Seven Kingdoms is full of sane men. Rumors are like diseases; if they catch on they will spread. People fall for rumors Lord Stark. But that is where people like us come in isn't it? We contain the disease and prevent it from spreading."

"_We_? Since when was it _we_?" Cregan asked angrily, he felt insulted that Bloodraven had already included him in his scheme.

Bloodraven however pretended not to hear him. "I'm going across the Narrow Sea tonight to end this rumor once and for all."

"You're not staying for the King's coronation?"

He smiled. "I have the King's express permission to leave."

Cregan frowned. Bloodraven was playing him but what for? Surely he does not want him to come to Essos to deal with a mere rumor? Cregan decided to get more serious. "Lord Brynden I don't know what game you're playing at but you can leave me out of it. The only thing I'm looking forward to tonight is a nice warm bed on my way back to Winterfell."

"Is that so Lord Stark? Are you so ready to abandon your King in a time of need?" Bloodraven asked angrily.

"I have served the king for the past twenty years," Cregan replied harshly. "I have a son and a daughter I have not seen for two years since I became Hand. I have done what I could for the realm and now it is time for me to retire. And now I think you should too."

Brynden stormed out of the room angrily without a word and slammed the door behind him. Cregan sighed as he collapsed onto his chair, going over what Brynden had said. Bloodraven seems to be obsessed with a rumor. No – not Bloodraven – the King. No doubt King Daeron had ordered this mission to Essos. _Was I supposed to go as well?_ Cregan thought. _But if King Daeron wanted me to go by not just ask me directly? Why send Bloodraven here to play games?_

There was another knock on the door and for a moment Cregan feared it was Bloodraven again. But it was only one of his servants. "My lord a man who called himself Bloodraven asked me to deliver this," the man said, handing Cregan a letter.

Cregan broke the seal and unfolded the letter after the servant left. "What now," he murmured as he began reading. The letter read:

_Lord Stark,_

_There is a man living in Pentos who knows the truth about Aemon the Dragonknight and Queen Naerys. I intend to seek this man out and uncover that truth. I will be at the East Dock this evening._

_Yours Truly,_

_Bloodraven_

Cregan crumbled up the letter and tossed it away. "What am I going to do," he asked himself. He wanted to go back to Winterfell, to his home. He wanted to see his wife and children. Yet the allure of Bloodraven's quest was strong. He too had heard about the romance of Aemon and Naerys. But could Daeron really be their bastard son? Cregan suddenly felt like it was his duty. _Perhaps I should go..._

"My lord," another servant called from outside. "Do you want to inspect the luggage before it departs?"

There was a long pause. "No," Cregan finally said after some thought. "On the contrary I will not be going north for the time being. Tell my wife that the King has some unfinished business he needs taken cared of. I will return to Winterfell after everything is set."

"Of course my lord." The servant retreated and Cregan sighed. _What have I gotten myself into?_ he thought to himself.


	4. Chapter 4 Brynden

I'm glad some people are enjoying this story! Unfortunately, between work, life, and my other two stories, I don't really have the time and energy to work on this one. I'll be putting this story on hiatus until I complete one of my other two stories. I already have the basic plot mapped out so when I do start again, it won't be difficult. If you have any suggestions to the plot or wish to help in any other way, please contact me.

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><p><strong>Brynden <strong>

Brynden stood at the dock, waiting for his ship to drop anchor. The moon had already replaced the sun and all was quiet. A thin mist had begun to drop over the city and Brynden pulled his cloak tighter. It was getting cold.

Brynden looked up at the starry sky and sighed, it was near midnight and there was no sign of Lord Stark. He was probably not coming. It was just another disappointment to his already disappointing day.

Earlier he had gone to see his sister Shiera Seastar, the only woman he ever loved. The two of them have had a long and complicated relationship, which started when they were only fifteen. Aemon the Dragonknight had proclaimed his sister the Queen of Love and Beauty and Brynden wanted to do the same. He had spent countless times with her in bed. They flirted and fought, laughed and cried. They seemed like a normal couple – except that they weren't.

Brynden had stopped counting the number of times he proposed to her. She had refused all of them and rather than his wife she had become his mistress. Worse she occasionally took other lovers and beds other men. No matter how hard he tried, Brynden couldn't stop her.

So it was little surprise then that she once again rejected his proposal today. He had gone to her after he left the Tower of the Hand. When he told her she only stood there and smiled at him playfully, taunting him with her naked body. He stormed out of her room, his heart in pieces. "Do I even have a heart anymore?" he had asked himself afterwards.

Brynden sighed and shook his head. He was getting distracted. The last thing he needed was the thought of a woman interrupting his mission. The crew on the ship had lowered a plank onto the dock and Brynden walked up to the deck. "Lord Bloodraven," the crew said as he passed them. The ship, called _Red Wind_, was his own. He had paid for her construction with his own money and handpicked her crew to make sure they would stay loyal only to him.

Brynden made his way towards the stern, where his private room was located. It was a large room – taking up the entire stern – but it wasn't particularly roomy. The walls were lined with bookcases filled with old tomes and navigation charts. A table and several chairs occupied the center of the room and two beds were placed on the far side of the room. A single chandelier hung from the ceiling. Once inside, he closed the door and sat down.

Suddenly he voices outside; voices Brynden didn't realize. For a moment he considered the possibility that perhaps Daemon's agents had already caught up with him. Brynden moved closer to the door, his right hand making its way towards his back, where he had concealed a knife under his shirt. The voices stopped, replaced by the sound of footsteps. Brynden's hand tightened around the hilt of the blade and his heart began to pound. _Trust no one…_

The door opened and a hooded man entered. Upon seeing the man's face, Brynden let out a sigh of relief and released his hold on the dagger. It was Cregan Stark.

"Did I surprise you Bloodraven?" Cregan smiled as he took a seat.

"Lord Stark, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" Brynden asked, joining him at the table.

The former Hand chuckled. "Curiosity got the better of me," he admitted. "So here I am. Now….tell me everything."

Brynden nodded and cleared his throat. "I do believe you are familiar with a man called Hyron Lannister?"

Cregan nodded, "He was a maester of the court and if I'm not mistaken, Queen Naerys Targaryen's teacher. But isn't he dead?"

"That's what I thought too," Brynden continued, "until words reached me from one of my agents. Hyron Lannister is alive and well, he is living in Pentos under the name Tymon Greywall."

"And Hyron Lannister holds the key to this mystery?"

"Precisely. Hyron was the only man Naerys trusted besides Aemon. It was said that after Aemon died defending King Aegon, Naerys told all her secrets to Hyron. After Naerys died unhappy, Hyron supposedly faked his own death and fled so he could keep her secret. He vowed to keep take her secret to the grave and we need to make sure that happens.

"You mean kill him."

"Sadly yes," Brynden said. "Even if the story is not true Hyron Lannister needs to die. We need to tie up these little loose ends before Daemon discovers them and uses them to his advantage."

"Alright, so where do we start?" Cregan didn't look too happy about it, but Brynden could tell he agreed.

"We will land in Pentos first. Apparently 'Tymon Greywall' made quite a name for himself as a healer so it shouldn't be too hard tracking him down," Brynden replied. "I just hope we get there before Daemon's men do."

"Does Blackfyre know about Hyron Lannister too?" Cregan asked.

"People talk Lord Stark," he said darkly. He drew his hidden dagger and looked at his reflection on the smooth, glassy blade. "You never know when someone might just let something slip. Shadows can take a life of their own. And when they strike, you fall." His hand opened and the dagger dropped to the ground with a thud.

"Are you saying we are being followed?" Cregan's voice dropped to a low whisper.

Brynden nodded. "There is an assassin on this ship. I know every single face onboard but the new attendant….."

"So what are we going to do?

"Don't worry Lord Stark, I have a plan."

They spent the rest of the night laughing and joking about the past. It was early morning when both men, having consumed some wine, fell asleep. The ship was rocking back and forth with the waves and all was quiet. The only noise came from the gentle taps of the waves and the cawing of seagulls.

One man onboard however was not asleep. He quietly worked his way from the crew quarters below to top of the ship, moving carefully as to not wake anyone. Slowly he tiptoed across the deck and opened the door to Brynden's room. As he walked in, he drew out a dagger and made his way towards the ship's master.

Brynden was well prepared and as the assassin neared, he opened his eyes and rolled down to the ground. He drew out Dark Sister from under the bed and slashed the assassin's shin. With a yell the man collapsed onto the ground. Brynden got up and kicked the dagger away from the man's hand. He pointed his blade at the man's neck. "Who sent you?"

At that moment Cregan charged in with three crew member and surrounded the downed assassin. Brynden repeated his question. "Who sent you? Tell us or we'll leave you here to bleed to death."

The assassin laughed as he retrieved a small brown bag from his belt. Then, before anyone could do anything, he stuffed the bag into his mouth. He coughed and gurgled as white powder began leaking from his mouth. Soon his eyes went blank and his skin paled. Brynden knelt down and placed a hand by the side of his neck. "He's dead."

"If he poisoned himself to death," Cregan said after the crew carried out the dead body and cleaned up the pool of blood, "it means he must be really loyal or really stubborn."

"It wasn't just any poison," Brynden replied. "He used Volantene White Powder; it kills within seconds by stopping the heart. This kind of poison isn't available on Westeros so this assassin must have spent time in the Free Cities before coming here."

"Do you think this is Daemon Blackfyre's work?" Cregan asked.

"No. I know Daemon. He might be a fool but he's an honorable fool. He would never swoop down this low," Brynden replied. "No it has to be someone working for him or advising him."

"Whoever this person is, he doesn't want us to reach Pentos," Cregan observed. "Any chance the other side has already reached our target?"

"I doubt it," Brynden shrugged. "If they're trying to kill us then it's obvious they're behind. If we make good time, we should be able to reach Pentos within three days. Let's just hope the gods are kind enough to make sure we're the first ones there."


End file.
